A new calendar sings a siren song to me. The clean lines and empty squares call to me---wooing with promises of efficiency, discipline and triumph. “You too can be organized. A schedule will simplify your life; and you will be happy.” I know the song. I have swayed to the melody many a January and February afternoon. A dulcet voice croons in my head, “Fill your days with activity, you will achieve so much more.” And though I know the tune is just a fairy-tale sung to lure me onto the rocks of disappointment, I fill in that planner, use colored pencils and stickers, categorize and arrange.
It is a work of art. And when it’s finished, I feel a rush of adrenaline, accomplishment and competence. Then after a few days, or maybe even a full week, my color-coded masterpiece is no longer the thing of beauty it once was. It has become a demanding task master, and I revolt, refusing to let it stifle my creativity. So, I crumple the page and scatter colored post-its across my desk top. I write notes about doctor appointments and bills to pay on napkins and the back of a grocery store receipt. I realize that no matter how alluring an organized calendar may seem, I will always thrive on the variety and chaos of a messy, half-structured system, where I may be confused, but at least I’m still the boss.
Deadlock Victim - Rerun the transaction. Another process claims the same resources. You have been chosen as the deadlock victim. It’s nothing personal. The optimized queuing ...
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